


Along For The Ride

by Dana



Series: Playing For Keeps sidestories [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Blowjobs and anal sex oh my, Established Relationship, Gavin still has cats, Gavin used to have a crush on Hank, I'm not over-tagging for it this time, Love Confessions, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Panic Attacks, Porn with Feelings, Post-Game, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Slow Dancing, more of Nines doing that thing that he does, oh yeah those references for past abuse that I probably over-tagged for in NSA?, soft reed900, some mentions of that foursome they had with Hank and Connor the night before lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-08-19 08:42:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16531229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dana/pseuds/Dana
Summary: 'Hey,' Gavin chirps.Nines's ministrations slow, and Gavin groans low in his throat as Nines's fingernails scratch across his scalp.  'After last night's activities, do you find yourself with any regrets?'Gavin grunts and squeezes Nines's knee.  'I dunno, maybe?''Do you think we should not have – ''No, fuck, nothing like that.'  Gavin sighs.  'Just, I don't really know how I'm supposed to look either of them in the eye.'





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No Strings Attached might have been the first reed900 I ever finished and posted, but this one here was the first thing I actually wrote. It's quite a while after NSA (ten months), but it's the day after Playing Nice, which is the story that started it all. Started writing this one because I wanted to know what Gavin and Nines relationship was like... and 70K later (between this story and NSA), here we are.
> 
> Thanks to connorandroidfbi for the beta, as well as for being my enabler. ♥
> 
> Oh ha ha and I know it's really long for a one shot, but I've been told it's very easy to read. Please give it a chance >.>

Gavin could have gone back to sleep it he wanted to, but the headache he pretty much always wakes with is already dancing a fucking samba across the front of his head, so fuck that. He rolls to his side, squints at the bedside table. There's a couple of ibuprofen out, as well as a glass of water. Nines has always been better at keeping track at that sort of shit than Gavin ever was, seeking out a plan of relief instead of doing it the way that Gavin usually preferred, blinding his way through yet another shitty day.

Used to be, when it was up to just him, he'd just power through it with excessive amounts of caffeine. And then some more caffeine. Maybe he eventually got the jitters, but it always worked out just fine – the excess energy always ended up being spent. But that was forever ago. It's been such a long time, now, since it had been just _him_. Well, and the cats. They spend more time at Gavin's apartment than they do at Nines's, but then, that's probably because Nines is just so damned fond of the cats. And Gavin, too, and no, ten months in, he still doesn't _get_ that. He might not ever.

But it sure as hell is nice. And he loves Nines, he's scared at how much he loves Nines. One of these days, sure, he'll figure himself out, he'll be able to _say_ it. But maybe that's still a while off, because the thought leaves him feeling cold inside, a little wriggly, a little sick. That somehow he got it all wrong, that Nines has just been pulling his leg. That none of this is actually real, Gavin's just out of his fucking mind.

He sits, pulling the sheet with him. He winds it around his torso, drapes some of it across his lap. Tosses the pills back, and downs the water in one go.

_Shit_.

He smells coffee, but he's not quite ready to get out of bed. He turns, and curls inwards, snuggling back into the covers. He likes Nines's bed. It's way bigger than his, and it's not covered in cat fur (don't get him wrong, he fucking loves his cats). Of course, that's when the memory of the night before decides to insinuate itself right back into Gavin's mind's eye: the fucking noises he'd made, the things he'd said, ah, fuck, Connor had actually _fucked_ him, and Gavin feels some sort of awkward after getting such an eyeful of Hank Anderson's dick.

A few years back, sure, he'd have thought differently, and all…

' _Fuck_ ,' he emphatically exhales. So this is what it feels like, the morning after you have a casual foursome with your boyfriend and a couple of your co-workers… one of which you used to have a fucking crush on. Gavin had expected some sort of embarrassment, of course, but Nines pretty much always knew what he was doing, it had to be better this way. Still, the fact of the matter is worse than anything else he'd actually planned on, because right now, he feels awkward as fucking _hell_.

And… it was good, sure, it was really fucking good. But it probably could have been a whole lot better. Nines couldn't have been holding back for Gavin's sake – Gavin can take a whole fucking lot – so that could only mean one thing. He probably didn't want to scare off Hank and Connor. He probably already planned on this happening again.

And Gavin… well, that was probably okay.

'Gavin?'

'Go away,' he mumbles into the pillow. 'I'm still asleep.' There's a soft huff as Nines laughs, and then the caress of cool air all across Gavin's burning skin as Nines pulls the covers back.

'Your coffee is ready, and I picked up a to-go platter from the bistro at the corner.'

'You mean the place that does those fancy egg white souffle sandwich things that I absolutely fucking love?'

'The pitas.'

'Yeah, those things.'

'Yes, that's the place.'

'Oh all right,' he groans, like getting up and putting his clothes on is some sort of fucking chore, but eating one of those sandwiches will definitely make any effort worth it. 'Give me a minute, I need to – '

The mattress dips when Nines sits down. Gavin rolls over onto his back, and rubs at his eyes. 'What?'

Nines is already dressed for work, minus his jacket. He looks pretty immaculate, clothes freshly pressed, hair neatly combed – he's in one of his button ups, today. He's certainly bought a few more articles of clothing since they first got together (for real). There's that stray little twist of hair that's perfectly out of place, the freckles and the other little beauty marks that some fucker at CyberLife had put there by design. Gavin could just lay like this and stare at him for hours, honestly. Nines is that good to look at.

Nines smiles as he leans close, as he strokes Gavin's cheek with the back of his hand. Gavin, finding that it's one of those mornings, doesn't know whether to press into or pull away from the touch. He gets like that, sometimes, it's a bad habit he can't help but fall back onto. And yeah, Gavin really does like it, all the fucking attention Nines showers on him, not that he always knows what to do with it – and that, right there, is the problem. He's not really good at all of this, never has been, but they've been together long enough, now, certainly he should have at least figured a few more things out.

He takes a breath, holds it. Very carefully, he lets it out. He butts the side of his head against Nines's hand, and his android continues stroking his cheek, smile widening. Gavin sighs softly, closing his eyes and scoots closer, really fucking craving the touch – he got touched so much last night, he really doesn't know why he's feeling so fucking needy, but he's craving it, he needs more, he needs it to be Nines. He pillows the side of his head against one of Nines's wonderfully toned thighs, and his android begins petting his fingers back through the mess of Gavin's bed head.

'Hey,' Gavin chirps.

Nines's ministrations slow, and Gavin groans low in his throat as Nines's fingernails scratch across his scalp. 'After last night's activities, do you find yourself with any regrets?'

Gavin grunts and squeezes Nines's knee. 'I dunno, maybe?'

'Do you think we should not have – '

'No, fuck, nothing like that.' Gavin sighs. 'Just, I don't really know how I'm supposed to look either of them in the eye.' Maybe Hank, especially.

'Embarrassment after the fact was a known risk, and yet you were determined to see it through.'

'Yeah, so it's my fault. I'm a horny fucking bastard and last night was one of the best nights of my life.'

Another soft chuckle, and Nines keeps on petting his hair, alternating between just his fingers and the tips of his nails. Gavin's spine is going melty, there's heat pooling low in his gut. Nines licks his bottom lip, slowly, and Gavin's ready to turn to putty in his hands.

So when Nines draws his hand back, Gavin audibly blinks. 'You should put on some clothes, _Detective_.' After last night, that's kind of a low blow, but it's probably what Gavin was asking for, and God, he shivers, because he's thinking about last night again, and damn, it had been nice. 'Your breakfast is going to get cold.'

Nines is gone before Gavin gets a chance to complain, and he would have – wholeheartedly, at fucking length. When it's clear Nines isn't coming back anytime soon, Gavin rolls onto his back with an incredibly emphatic _fuck_.

–  
–

He wanders out into the kitchen area in his boxers and the shirt he'd been wearing the night before. Sure, some of his spare clothes are hanging in Nines's massive closet, but after last night he's gonna need a shower before he goes in to work, and he really isn't sure how that makes him feel. So, for now at least, there's just no point in him putting on something else. Actually, there's more of Gavin's stuff in there than any of Nines. His android's wardrobe is still, after everything else, decidedly sparse, since he doesn't sweat or tend to make a mess of his clothes. Wonder of fucking technology. Or, in other words, humans are fucking gross. Gavin is gross, too, but Nines kind of likes it like that.

Gavin isn't a big talker in the morning and Nines is plenty used to that. Gavin perches on one of the stools at the end of the counter, shoulders hunched, and Nines is leaning against it on the other side, watching him.

Gavin's pretty used to it, Nines standing – or sitting, whatever – and watching as he downs his food, and drinks his coffee, or whatever else Gavin happens to be doing at the time. Gavin's told him to fuck off before and do something else, but he's never actually thought of it was creepy. Actually, like all the other attention Nines showered on him, it was pretty fucking nice – not that Gavin was good at saying anything about it.

Anyhow, Nines is insistent as fuck when he says he doesn't mind it that Gavin can eat when Nines isn't able to; it's almost as if Nines genuinely enjoys his company or some fucking shit like that, and Gavin still has his doubts. And that he can even think anything like that, after all the time they've been together...

Well, that says something about him. Something shitty. Something that isn't Nines's fault, at all. Gavin's the one who's all fucked up.

It's never really been _just_ about the sex.

Gavin fell into… liking him, with less resistance than he could have anticipated. He hadn't been known for his love of androids, in general, and that was the sort of understatement that deserved some sort of fucking award. Who even knew what was going on in Fowler's head when he'd first partnered them together – well, maybe whatever he'd been thinking when he'd dumped the deviant case on Hank, expecting something positive to come out of it. Gavin certainly hadn't ever wanted one of them as his partner, in specific. He wasn't Anderson, he didn't need a plastic poodle following him wherever he went. But… That wasn't Nines, really.

He wasn't going to let a little thing like getting saddled with an android for a partner get in the way of him keeping his job. He'd annoyed Fowler countless times before, maybe this was a more direct attempt to run Gavin out of the place. But Gavin took one look at Nines, and – and maybe some idiot would call it love at first sight, but Gavin didn't believe in that sort of bullshit. Nines, for one thing, looked way too much like Connor – a little goofy, a little good looking.

One of the things he knew, that Nines didn't know about, was that Fowler had let him know that Nines had _picked_ him, out of all the detectives he could have been partnered with. So that, and coupled with how Nines made him feel, pretty much immediately, he wanted to _try_. He wanted to make Nines proud.

Falling in love, wow, that wasn't supposed to happen.

And he really wasn't anything like Connor, was he? Sure, they were somewhat similar looking, like they designers had taken what they'd thought they'd perfected with Connor and decided to make it even better, but their voices were different enough, thank God. Nines was big, and strong, and super fucking intense – but he was soft, and sincere, and Gavin had been blindsided by his romantic streak the first time they went on an actual date (said romantic streak was at least as wide as the fucking Grand Canyon, back in its heyday, because yeah, humans pretty much destroy everything they get their hands on, it's such a big ass mood).

And yeah, Gavin's perfectly fucking aware of the irony inherent in the whole entire clusterfuck. The things he used to say to Hank, the jabs he's made at him all at Connor's expense. At the time, he had his suspicions about why Hank even kept Connor around, but they were really fucking good suspicions. He's a fucking detective, after all. Sometimes, you know, he actually _detects_.

Him and Nines, they'd started this, this, fucking _whatever_ this is, because Gavin came into work with a splattering of angry, violent bruises, ones that had immediately drawn his partner's suspicion. Gavin thinks about that, a lot. How he thought he was getting what he wanted, but getting together with Nines – even before they were _together_ – hell, he was wrong.

The bruises shouldn't have even been left in any obvious places, but the fucker Gavin had hooked up with the night before was an extra special piece of fucking shit and wasn't too good at understanding that no meant no. There was a rabbit hole, Gavin was down it already – when he picked up a random fuck, he sometimes imagined it was Nines going down on him, or choking him, or fucking him, but it really went beyond because, from the first time he'd laid eyes on Nines, he'd _known_. Nines was different. Nines was… special? Sure, Gavin had a type, and Nines _fit_ it, but the comparison was only skin deep.

Nines was too good for him, and close to a year on in, Gavin still felt that. Like he didn't deserve that sort of good thing in his life. Eventually, Nines is gonna wise up to that. He's gonna leave. And Gavin, who the fuck knows – he'll probably end up dying. He doesn't know what he'd be without Nines, and he got enough of a taste of it already, back when Nines first admitted how he felt – that _I love you_ had been a punch to the solar plexus, he couldn't even _breathe_. It sent him hurtling back in time, and it wasn't Nines telling him 'I love you', it was someone else. Someone Gavin hadn't seen in years, someone he didn't want to think about, let alone name.

And now he's started to think things he really knows better to avoid, but he doesn't actually know how to stop, _fuck_.

Sure, he liked his partner, but with Gavin wanting Nines to fuck him up, that was – that was probably bad form, might have screwed up that cool almost-psychic thing they had going on, when it came to solving cases. Gavin, seriously, honest as fucking anything, wasn't just trying, he'd ended up _liking_ that they were partners. Didn't pick on Nines half as much as he could have, if he really wanted to. Didn't kick up even a quarter of the fuss he could have, if he wanted Nines off his back. And no, it didn't matter that he was an android, that he was better than Gavin at pretty much fucking anything he tried, usually with no amount of effort on his part. Fowler had tried dropping partners on him before, but none of them had ever stuck around. Tried to work with him, instead of work around him. Adapt to Gavin's strengths, instead of trying to change him from the bottom up.

Because, fuck _that_. Gavin knows he's good at what he does. He goofs off sometimes, he's allowed to, but when he puts himself to a task, he gets _results_.

He'd had his suspicions (Hank and Connor were pretty fucking obvious, okay), but they hadn't actually gotten together, at that point – it happened a few weeks after Nines and Gavin finally sorted their own shit out. Because, sometime along the way, Nines had fallen in love with him – they were supposed to be fuckbuddies, there weren't supposed to be _labels_ , but wasn't that just a label of its own? And it scared Gavin, scared the fuck out of him. Still does, sometimes. Mostly because he knows he doesn't deserve it.

Back then, though, he couldn't play pretend anymore. Couldn't act like he was just along for the ride.

Gavin got his act together and messaged him. And they talked. And they put a name to what they were doing, _dating_. Then they went back to Gavin's apartment, and they had the best make-up sex ever. Like, it was life affirming. It restarted something that had already been the best thing that had ever happened in Gavin's overly shitty life. And Nines was still too good for him, just, he hadn't yet figured that out.

He feels his mood shifting, sinking deeper. See, Gavin didn't actually deserve the good stuff lavished on him. Just the bad. The press of a sharp heel against a throat that was already battered and bruised, that one fucker who liked to choke him until he actually passed out. Or some bastard leaving him with his hands cuffed behind his back, semen trickling down his thigh because the shit hadn't _listened_ when Gavin told him he needed to wrap it or leave. Or that time Paul, fuck, no, he needs to not think about him, just, he can't fucking _stop_. That time he'd stopped by his place to pick up the rest of his shit, and Gavin had, no, fuck, _no_. Nines knew about his bad luck with exes and hook-ups, but Gavin has managed to avoid giving him specifics, and Nines had never pressed.

Nines.

He lifts his head up, looks across the divide, at Nines, the LED flickering at his temple, yellow, blue, yellow, blue.

People like Gavin, they don't deserve anything good. Not soft touches, softer words, like the ones that Nines liked to whisper against his ear as he fucked Gavin so perfectly, all those times that his brain's been reduced to mush. When Nines gives him exactly what he wants without pushing him too hard, just, he's pushed just _enough_.

And Gavin is _scared_. He's fucking terrified, okay. Of the day, the eventuality, the fucking _moment_ , of Nines realizing he's too good for him, that Gavin's just a fucking piece of shit and all he'll ever do is drag Nines down. Gavin's gonna be left on his own. Again. And that would be alright. Okay. It would be perfectly fucking _fine_.

'Is there a problem with your food?'

'Uh? No, it's fine.' _Fine_. Just to prove how fine it is, Gavin takes another bite of the sandwich. Tries to focus on the flavors, tries not to _think_. Spinach, and tomato, and feta, all baked into the egg whites, with some garlic and a few other spices he can't actually name. All wrapped up in a flaky pita crust. 'Fucking to die for.'

Nines is frowning at him, his LED is blinking yellow. Gavin shrugs with one shoulder and then folds back in on himself, clutching at his cup of coffee with one trembling hand. Nines keeps on watching, but Gavin doesn't actually care. He downs a mouthful of his coffee, then focuses on taking another bite of his sandwich. Bite, and chew, and swallow, bite, and chew, and _swallow_ – 

'I think… I think you're finished with your breakfast.'

'No, I'm pretty sure I'm not,' Gavin snaps back, fixing him with a hot glare.

Nines keeps on frowning, like Gavin had done something wrong. A few of his exes, they'd have backhanded him for mouthing off like that, and in the moment, Gavin would have hated it, but he'd have fucking loved it, too. It was a little like he was high on it, though it rarely fucking ended well, did it? But Nines, that's not Nines. No, he's made of better stuff than all of Gavin's shitty exes and one night stands combined. The ones who'd hurt him just to make him bleed, or ignored him when he told them to _stop_ , since them getting off was all they actually cared about.

'Gavin, please, come here.'

The please, it almost gets him. He could let the anger roll off of him in waves, instead of letting it set him on fire.

With a heavy sigh, Gavin pushes away from the counter-top, sitting up, and Nines's light flashes from red to yellow, quick as anything. Gavin keeps on glaring, holding Nines's gaze as he walks around the low divide, predatory almost – wait, no, that's not right at all. It's a little like he's on his way to confront a startled animal – Gavin's a little too much like one of his cats when he's stumbled around in the dark and stepped on a tail. Anxious, too easily startled. Ready to hiss and spit and scratch.

Nines isn't going to slap him or punch him in the face, make him lick up the mess he'd have made by bleeding all over the white, pristine floor. Still, maybe it's the strong silent thing he's got going on, Gavin's a little dizzy from it. Nines isn't planning on breaking him (Gavin's doing a fantastic fucking job of breaking himself already, thank you very much), Nines is gonna do what he has to do to make Gavin feel better about himself.

Still, that level of _concern_ – it should be ridiculous, except, it's plenty fucking hot. Because Nines loves him, Nines loves him with his everything. (That's scary, too.) How everything Nines does, it somehow relates right back down to Gavin.

Kind of fucking sad, really. Terrifying, too. Because Gavin doesn't deserve it, he never will.

The sweat that's already trickling down his neck, itchy dampness on his palms. His mouth that's already gone dry. The thump, thump-thump, _thump_ of his heart, out of fucking sync. It's not an anxiety attack, it's not a fucking panic attack. It's just, he feels a little out of himself, the anxiety is wriggling about inside him and he doesn't _know_. And he needs to be reassured, or he needs to be slapped, but Nines has never been _that_ level of hands-on with him, so Gavin is out of luck.

'Put that down,' Nines says, now standing to his side. 'Please, Gavin.' The shape of his mouth, ghosting against the shell of Gavin's ear. He lets out a ragged little gasp as he full body twitches, dropping the half-finished sandwich onto the plate. 'Thank you. I'd really rather not have us end up making a mess.'

'Nines?' It comes out as a question, and Gavin shakes his head. He closes his eyes, but afterimages lurk in the darkness, blurry-edged bursts of rainbow-tinted lights, and Gavin feels a little sick. There's more of that horrible, cold wriggling, it's spreading out under his skin.

Nines, see, he has a tendency to make everything better. 'Nines, what – '

Patiently, mechanically, Nines says: 'Come, Detective – you're going back to bed.'

Gavin shakes his head as he _growls_ , the whole room _shakes_. 'I'm not gonna – '

Again, steadier, _firmer_ , a little cold, sure, but not – not in a bad way? No, it's just – Nines is being patient with him, showing Gavin he can be patient still, but it's also a little like he's speaking to a child that's about to throw a tantrum. Gavin could resent that too, if it wasn't the fucking truth. 'You're _going back to **bed**_.'

Nines tugs him down from the stool, and Gavin's bare feet slip against the tiled floor. Still, he's not going without a fight. Nines easily catches the punches Gavin tries to throw, and the whole world flips on its end as Nines effortlessly lifts him up and slings him back over his shoulder.

'Fuck! Put me down!' He pounds on Nines's back, because he's angry, and he's dizzy, and he's _hot_ , he doesn't have to take this bullshit, not from this plastic fucking prick. 'Listen to me for once, for once, and – fuck!'

Once, just once, he'd love it for Nines to _listen to him_ , just do as he's said, only that's not true at all, is it? Nines listens to him all the time, even takes Gavin's opinions into consideration when they're working on a case. Doesn't make him feel like he's incompetent, that he's being replaced, that he's somehow _less_ , even though Gavin knows that he is. And Gavin's arrest record has always been pretty fucking above average, otherwise they'd have gotten rid of him a long time ago; he's good at helping to get convictions that never manage to get an appeal. He's passionate about doing the right thing, helping the people that he can; and yeah, so he used to act like he hated androids, but sometimes you hate what you're afraid of. And he definitely used that to his advantage, when it came to treating Connor like _shit_. But even that was relative – he probably wouldn't have bothered with Connor, if Hank hadn't had suck a fucking high opinion of the fucker.

Nines, though, _Nines_. Doesn't really hold any of that against him. Nines working with him, all it does is make a good thing better. Nines is definitely the best thing that's happened to him in a long fucking time. Nines even went out of his way to set up everything, last night, like, that was something that Gavin _wanted_ to happen, and Nines made it a possibility. Nines has been nothing but awesome, and Gavin is still a piece of shit.

Once Gavin gets a thought in mind, it's hard to pry it out his cold, dead hands (he's mixing his metaphors, or whatever, who the fuck cares). While beating on Nines's back proves to be ineffective, it's not like Gavin had expected anything else. But still, he had to at least fucking _try_. And it helps, because there's too much pressure in his chest, all hot and tight. Like he's about to start screaming, or maybe just sob.

The living room flashes by, and then the bedroom, and then Nines is flipping him over and dumping him on the bed. The breath gets knocked from Gavin's lungs in a hard _whoosh_ , and as he tries to make the room stop spinning, the mattress shifts all around him as Nines climbs onto the bed to join him.

Stationary. It's all very stationary, at least for a moment, before the room starts spinning all over again. He closes his eyes. He knows he's gripping at Nines's shirt with one hand, the texture of the cloth firm but even. 'Calm down, Detective,' Nines murmurs, very softly. His fingers are smooth and cool where they slide about the back of his neck, giving a squeeze that can only be described as reassuringly gentle. 'Everything is alright.'

'I don't believe you,' Gavin spits out, between gritted teeth. He opens his eyes, and Nines looms above him, swimming sideways, completely out of focus. 'I don't – Nines?'

'Shh.' Nines leans his forehead against Gavin's. 'Listen to the sound of my voice, Detective.'

'Fuck,' Gavin groans. 'I don't – you aren't – '

He slides one shaking arm across Nines's back. With a hand gone claw-like, he grabs at his arm. Everything is spinning, twisting, lurching, knotting in Gavin's gut – everything but Nines, he's the only stable thing in the whole entire room. In Gavin's life.

' _Shh_ ,' Nines gentles him. Cards his fingers through Gavin's hair. Gavin exhales, inhales, breathy little gasps. He's being pulled one way and then the other, but either way, he's stretched too thin. Nines is going to get sick of him, eventually, Nines is going to _leave_ –

Gavin whines. An ankle hooks at the back of a calf, digging in. Gavin arches up, acidic mouth seeking out something softer, something harder, something better than himself. He groans as Nines's tongue flicks, soft as anything, across his lips, and Gavin opens himself wide, inviting Nines in.

The breath huffs out of his nose in a burst as Nines's palm touches the flat plane of his stomach. A gasp, and Nines's touch is sliding further south. He blinks, and blinks again, and drags Nines down to his level, to sink his mouth into another kiss.

The slide of Nines's fingertips are too smooth to be real, but the heat that follows after sends a shiver down Gavin's spine. He curves into it, molds himself against Nines, helpless to his pull.

Nines draws back, caressing his cheek with the back of his hand, thumbnail scraping across his stubble. When Nines rolls onto his side, he takes Gavin with him. Draws him close, forehead to his chest. The thump-thump of Nines's thirium pump is suddenly all Gavin can feel, all he can hear, and as he lets it sweep him under like some sort of fucking lullaby, he slips into a breathless sort of calm. He doesn't know how long they stay like that, not even speaking. But the anxiety eases off, and Gavin almost thinks he can see clearly. Think clearly. God, he's exhausted.

'Gavin?'

'Hmm.'

The mattress shifts one way, then another, but Gavin is pressed fast against the beat of Nines's heart. A gentle flurry of motion, a kiss pressed to the crown of his head. 'How do you feel?

'Tired.' Whatever he was tripping on, he's gotten the fuck over it – mostly. But, yeah, tired. He definitely feels tired.

'I've taken the liberty of calling Captain Fowler. He's granted you a mental health day, says you'd better make the best of it.'

Gavin growls, but it's soft, _tired_ still, just like he'd said. He pushes against Nines, cranes his head back, surges forward and plants a sloppy kiss on his android's mouth. Nines's gentles him through that as well, a hand in his hair, guiding him. 'Come here,' Nines tells him, and Gavin goes where he's led, as Nines rolls onto his back and draws Gavin after him. His head is pillowed against his android's chest, and Gavin clothes his eyes. 'Just breathe.'

'Okay.'

He focuses on the things he feels, the things that are good, since Nines only ever makes him feel _good_. The way Nines's fingers are brushing through his hair, the warmth of his palm as it strokes down to the small of his back. Gavin breathes, and breathes, and breathes, and the good things don't seem to want to stop. 'I love you,' Nines murmurs, and Gavin's stupid heart skips a few more beats. 'I love you, I love you, I love you.' He whispers it between more kisses, the sort that leave Gavin flying high. Tilts Gavin's chin up, gray eyes locking onto blue. 'I wish you understood.'

Gavin does what he always does, when he's confronted by Nines's feelings for him – he blushes, and he growls, but he doesn't actually know what to say. Nines probably doesn't even know what he's saying, either. He has no idea what humans are really like, or the world at large. He's stuck with Gavin because – because – Gavin doesn't actually know, but it can't possibly last.

Only that's not really an excuse anymore, is it?

'I… don't always know what to do to help you, Gavin – I, I don't like the way that makes me feel.' Useless, Nines could say. Helpless. Only, Gavin's the useless one, the helpless one, the waste of fucking space.

(But if Nines really loves him, he's got to be worth something, right?)

And if there's one thing that's been consistent, since he first said the words, is that Nines loves him. No matter his shitty mood, no matter anything else. Giving Gavin a second chance, no, more than that. It gives him the chills just thinking about it, that old text message that he can't bring himself to delete – the one that he has backed up to several different cloud services because sometimes he can do with the reminder, and knowing his luck the next time he does a data transfer when he gets a new phone, something is going to get fucked up.

_Gavin, I'm not giving up on you. I never will._

He lets out a shuddering sigh, it's still a little too much. And yet, as he tries to sort it all out, all he actually manages to say is, simply, 'yeah.' With a huff, he curls inwards, one of his legs sliding up over one of Nines. He wants, he wants, he _wants_. He wants to stop thinking, to stop hating himself because he's not perfect, he's never been perfect, but perfection is what someone like Nines deserves. Doesn't want Nines to leave him, when all he ever does is give him more and more excuses to do just that, not that Nines has ever take advantage of any of the myriad break-up starters Gavin has hurled his way.

'How do you feel?'

'You just fucking asked, not a whole lot has changed.'

'Humor me, please.'

Gavin groans, closes his eyes. Focuses on the good things, again, soft and small and everything. Nines's love, all that burning fucking devotion. The way that Nines is the only real light in his life. And his cats. And God, fuck everything, if that isn't pathetic.

'Better.' He's groping for the right thing to say, sure he's gonna get it all wrong. 'Last night, though. Last night was good.'

'Did you truly enjoy yourself?'

'I bet you were analyzing me the whole fucking time, don't even try to hide it. It was – ' Gavin lets out a small, soft sigh. 'It was really fucking nice.'

'Good. Connor has informed me, the Lieutenant was equally pleased.'

'That's great, whatever.' Gavin grumbles, but he kind of wants to laugh. 'What made you pick those two, anyway?'

Nines quirks an eyebrow at him, genuinely amused. 'We honestly do not know many other human-androids couples, it hinged on that, and while I know you are fond of Tina and Lisa, well…'

'Yeah, that wouldn't have worked,' he huffs out a laugh.

'It does help that we work with both of them, and you are far more comfortable in their presence than you would have been if I had chosen total strangers. Also, your treatment of my predecessor has vastly improved since you and I were first partnered together – plus, I know you don't hate the Lieutenant as much as you think you do.'

Gavin keeps his mouth shut. He's not really good at dealing with Nines blatantly slapping him in the face with the truth. He lets out a little breath, shakes his head. 'And… and you?'

'What?'

'You don't… I mean… you're really okay with the whole sharing thing?'

'I wouldn't have humored you in that fashion, if this was not something I wanted as well. I… care? For Connor, in my own way, and I am fond of the Lieutenant as well.'

Plus, Gavin is suddenly sure Nines had said something about not minding the idea of of it, almost a year ago, or something like that – just, as long as Nines was the one in charge of it? Oh, wait, no – as long as they were all on the same page.

'I don't know if that really answers my question.'

'Does it not? Connor was sharing something that he loves, it was only fair that I do the same.'

There's a painful lump in Gavin's throat now, he forces himself to swallow it down. Something like that, it's way too fucking much, because Nines can't just _say_ something like that, he fucking _can't_. Hank probably doesn't have any trouble reciprocating when Connor tells him he loves him, but Gavin's just a sack of fucking shit.

'Okay, whatever,' he mutters, ready to deflect. 'You should probably go, I'll clean up and kick myself out. You're gonna be late – '

Nines presses a finger to Gavin's lips, and just like that, Gavin shuts up. Just stops, speaking, _thinking_ , hardly even breathing, as Nines's finger strokes one way, and then the other, gentle as fucking anything.

Pushes a little more firmly, pulling down on his bottom lip and baring the whites of his teeth. Which he then presses the pad of his fingertip against, sliding it from one side of the mouth to the other. Gavin, his ability to reason having vanished down the fucking drain, just lets him keep on doing what he's doing, he's absolutely fucking entranced.

'When I previously contacted Captain Fowler, I let him know that I was also running late.' Licking at his own bottom lip, Nines draws his hand away from Gavin's mouth.

And Gavin, he swallows, and shivers. Licks at his fucking lips. 'That's… that's fucking great.'

The world shifts around him as Nines sits up, pulling Gavin with him. He pushes the shirt off of Gavin's shoulder, down, and down, and down, getting Gavin's arms tangled up in the mess of smooth, satiny cloth. 'You fucking pervert,' Gavin hums, dizzy with it, as Nines's grins at him, still damp finger trailing down Gavin's bare chest.

'You like that I'm a pervert.'

'Yeah, well, fuck me. Guilty as charged.' He takes a shallow breath, blows it out, tries it again, gets it right. He really does. Because Nines had known what he was talking about when he first propositioned Gavin – Gavin wasn't even sure where the experience was from, and he didn't want to know. Nines knew what he could take, and Gavin had never actually questioned it.

See, this, all this? It'll definitely leave him in a better mood. If there's anything that's gonna succeed at grounding him in the real world, it's getting dicked down by Nines. And he's always so accommodating.

'Why not use the actual handcuffs?' Nines keeps a pair in the bedside table, with some other stuff. Most of the toys, though, they're kept at Gavin's apartment, since that's where Nines spends most of his time.

'I like this…' He squeezes Gavin's shoulder, testing the give of muscle and flesh. 'It's more organic.'

Well… alright. Maybe Nines wants it to be symbolic, he likes that sort of thing. Maybe he wants Gavin to remember what was going on in the back of the cab, late last night. 'So, you sure I'm in the right headspace for this?'

'Your vitals no longer indicate symptoms of outwards distress.' Nines tilts his head, mouthing at Gavin's neck, sucking as he kisses, trailing down to the sharp curve of his shoulder, giving a bite that's more playful than anything else. Another hum, and a flutter of Gavin's eyes, and he arches up into it, keeps his hands behind his back. The heat of Nines's hand is pretty fucking overwhelming as he palms at Gavin's growing erection. 'Your heart rate indicates arousal, not anxiety. You are, as well, in a much better mood.'

'And hey, you know me. This is only gonna make a good thing better.'

A smirk. And then, as he nips at Gavin's already tingling skin, he says: 'I know I just put you back together, but…' He trails off, but the meaning behind the silence is implicit enough: I just put you back together, but please, please, let me tear you apart. Because he won't just drop Gavin like a hot potato, afterwards. He'll take care of him then, as well.

' _Yes_ ,' Gavin exhales, emphatically as fuck. 'Come on, you know what I can take.'

Nines does, he really does (and really, Gavin could take _more_ , but Nines has his limits and Gavin pushes, pushes, _pushes_ , but Nines's resolve never gives, and that's probably better for Gavin than he even knows). He's mapped out Gavin's reactions with a the sort of curiosity that was too pleased with itself to be called _detached_ , saved them to memory. Knows that he can hold Gavin's dick in a grip that's hard, too fucking hard, but all Gavin will do is whimper, and buck into it, whining. Knows what power he holds over Gavin, whenever Nines put his hand on Gavin's throat. Knows that Gavin is his, Gavin only wants to be his. _Knows_ –

...that it goes both ways.

'Come on,' he says, and he fucking means it. Shudders, as Nines continues stroking him, just to the right side of too rough. There's a thin layer of fabric separating Nines's hand and Gavin's dick, and it's only managing to get in the way, catching and dragging against skin that's way too hot, too incredibly sensitive. 'Please?'

Nines props himself on one arm, watching him. His LED cycles yellow for what seems like forever, and Gavin feels like he's gonna get told no. Gavin had already been close to freaking out, that's fucking true. But no, the light switches back over to blue, calm and content. 'I mean, you're already gonna be late. You gotta make it worth your fucking time.'

Nines smirks, slowly. Tilts his head some as he sits up and leans forward, and before Gavin's even able to grasp at what's going on, Nines's mouth is pressed to his crotch. He's sucking at Gavin through that thin layer of silk and polyester blend, lapping at him with the flat of his tongue. Soaking through the fabric in no time flat. ' _Fuck_!' 

Nines doesn't put that all that much effort into holding him down at the hip, but Gavin still isn't able to move. He wants to grab at Nines's hair and ruin the perfectly styled do, but that would kind of ruin the game. 'Nines. _Nines_.'

Nines sucks, harder. And Gavin can't even _think_ , his mind is already shattered; and his world, narrowed down and split apart, all because of Nines and his _mouth_.

Nines pulls away slowly, eyes half-lidded, licking the O of his wide open mouth. Tilts his head so he can slant a look at Gavin, one hand settling itself on Gavin's knee, the other peeling back the elastic edge of his boxers.

Gavin shudders on an exhale, shifts his hips up, elbows digging into the mattress as he _moves_. Watches as Nines pulls his underwear down, as his dick springs up, flushed an angry red, slick as fucking anything. Lets out another shuddering breath as Nines's does too many things at once: as his breath ghosts over hot, aroused skin; as his hand, the one that had pinned Gavin at the hip, slides up across his stomach.

It's a little like watching some sort of contortionist, and it'd make Gavin uncomfortable if it wasn't so fucking hot. Nines tilts his head the other way, tongue flicking across the crown of Gavin's dick. His fingertips brush at his windpipe, and Gavin's Adam's apple bobs as he chokes a little, swallows. 'Nines,' he croaks.

Nines's lick backwards, holding Gavin up with just the strength of his tongue. His fingers spread, warm, around the base of Gavin's neck. Starts to press in, it's the perfect amount of pressure. As much as Nines has said that Gavin is his (and he is, he _is_ ), this is the icing on the cake. Tender, but possessive.

He lets out a ragged little gasp as Nines stops teasing him so fucking blatantly, lets Gavin's dick slide into the slick heat of his mouth.

If Gavin could think (but he can't), he'd be as amazed at ever at how realistically damp it all feels, even if the 'saliva' is that fucking analysis fluid he uses at crime scenes, it's thicker than a human's spit. Since he can't (think, that is), and Nines's hand is wrapped around him firmly, as tightly as the mouth that's sucking Gavin in, all that escapes him is another broken gasp, hips shuddering upwards. Nines squeezes his kneecap, and Gavin lets out another broken moan. Harder, _harder_ , like Gavin's dick is a straw and Nines has found the best tasting stuff in the whole entire world. His vision swims a little, he's drifting in it. All Nines has to do is – 

He lets out a small, choking gasp, 'I'm close,' but he's too late, he's too fucking late. Nines doesn't even pull back as Gavin comes, no, just keeps on sucking him down, sucking him dry. The pressure on his windpipe is gone (Nines knows he could have taken it, taken a whole lot fucking more), but Gavin's head drops back, he sucks down lungfuls of cool, tangy air. Sex, and sweat, all of it his own. He's still feeling pretty dizzy, but at the same time, it's really fucking nice.

Nines draws away from him, licking at the mess that lingers on his lips. He sits up, staring down at Gavin, but the look in his eyes is gentle, affectionate. His fingers are stroking, back and forth, along Gavin's inner thigh, and Gavin shivers and groans and breathes. 'Fuck me?'

'You're such a greedy boy,' Nines murmurs. 'I'd really rather not have to change, so please try not to make a mess of my shirt.'

That, it turns out, is as much explanation as he's gonna get as Nines shifts around on the bed, gripping Gavin's leg and pulling him with him, sliding him across the sheets. Nines is kneeling, bracketed on each side by Gavin's legs. He keeps an eye on Gavin as he undoes his belt, the button of his pants, lowers his fly. Gavin swallows, lets his tongue slide across his lips. Nines hardly even shoves his pants down, there's only the faintest flash of pale, soft flesh, and Gavin wants _more_. No, all Nines does is reach inside them, pulls his dick out.

'Are you not wearing underwear?' he asks, voice thick.

Nines tilts his head sideways, smiles at him, so fucking sincerely. 'What do you think?'

'Oh.' Gavin tries to remember what Nines kept telling him before, oh yeah, _breathe_. Nines sticks a finger into his mouth, sucks on it, lets it soak in that slick fucking fluid because neither of them had actually thought to grab the lube. Last night, it was out in the open, there for anyone to see, to use. Today, though, it's back in the drawer it usually occupies. With the handcuffs, and some other stuff, right where it belongs.

Gavin whimpers, hips shuddering helplessly, he's spread so fucking wide.

Nines pulls the finger out of his mouth, makes a show of it as he licks the tip. 'Is this okay?'

Gavin's pretty much at Nines's mercy right now, but Nines always _asks_. Doesn't just ask, he listens; really takes Gavin's thoughts, and concern, into mind. If Gavin did ever tell him to stop, Nines would fucking stop. No 'I didn't fucking hear you, stop being such a whiny fucking bitch'. No other shitty excuses like that.

He nods, mesmerized by the thin thread of synthetic saliva that links Nines's mouth to his finger. It glimmers, shifting in the light, then snaps. Nines leans forward, braces one hand to the side of Gavin's head. Brushes his mouth over Gavin's, and Gavin opens himself to the onslaught – Nines's mouth, on his, Nines's finger, brushing at the crack of his ass, as he slips the tip of his finger inside him.

He does gasp, tenses up, as Nines finger crooks experimentally, like any of this is new. Nines pauses, waiting for him, for Gavin to tell him it's good to go on, with a look, with another gasp, with a very affirmative _yes_. Nines' eyes never leave Gavin's as he presses that finger into him, twists it and pushes it deeper, as that finger becomes two, and then three, and Gavin's ready to just fuck himself on Nines's fingers by that point in time, it's getting to be too much. Just, only in the best ways. In the burn of straining muscles, the sting in his eyes.

' _Nines_.'

Nines grabs him under the thigh, lifts his left leg up some. Smiles down at him, dazed almost, like Gavin, sweaty and slicked up and already fucking begging for it, he's the prettiest fucking sight in the world. 'Nines, come on,' Gavin groans, a hot blush and a cool prickle of sensation rushing across his naked skin at the same time.

'Please?'

Nines slides his leg out some, _pushing_ , bracing Gavin's against his own. Gives a few slow, steady thrusts, back and forth, until the head of his cock starts pressing into Gavin's already stretched hole. Gavin arches up into it, the slow burn of it as he's filled – Nines is so fucking _big_. Nines doesn't stop until he's completely bottomed out, until all Gavin can actually feel is _Nines_ , pulsing inside him.

He presses down into it, lifts his head up just to have it fall back. Grinds downwards, because Nines hasn't actually started moving. 'Come on,' he exhales, opening his eyes with a soft, groaning sigh. Only, Nines is staring down at him, face absolutely rapt with affection, soft yet burning bright. There's a fire in Nines, one that all of Gavin's self hatred hasn't managed to put out. Doesn't want to, even. Wants to be able to believe him, the way Nines so effortlessly believes himself.

See, the fucking, he can put up with the fucking. But when Nines looks at him like that, when all his emotions are bared for Gavin to see, that's sure as fuck harder to deal with. The love becomes a physical thing, something Gavin isn't able to ignore.

And he tries, sometimes. A little because it's too hard to face, a little because he doesn't actually deserve it. But Nines doesn't waiver, like he's in this to the end.

'Nines?' His voice is so fucking small, like, _he can't even_. He swallows, tries to wriggle back.

Nines's thigh presses against his, Gavin isn't actually getting away. He gently caresses the curve of Gavin's jaw, the faintest scratch of his nail. Leans forwards, so their mouths are almost touching. Rocks backwards, pulling against the tight hold of Gavin's body. 'Should I stop?' he asks, LED gone yellow.

Gavin, tears in his eyes, shakes his head. ' _No_ ', he groans. Wants to add, you haven't even fucking _started_ , yet you plastic piece of shit. But he doesn't, he doesn't. Doesn't actually need to give Nines any more reasons to stop liking him, to leave him. (He's given him plenty.}

Nines gives a little hum of approval, yellow flashing back to blue. 'I love you,' he says, so soft it's a whisper, and he bends a little closer – Gavin groans – as his lips brush against Gavin's. Then he goes back to holding himself perfectly fucking still, as Gavin pushes up into the kiss, needing that connection on top of all the others.

But Nines pulls back, just out of Gavin's reach. Rolls his hips with everything he's got, and thrusts back in. A jolt shoots down Gavin's spine, goes straight to his dick. 'I _love_ you,' Nines says, again, like he hasn't said it a thousand times already. Like he wasn't going to say it a thousand more.

And sure, one day, enough is gonna be enough. It'll click in Gavin's head, he'll _get_ it. That Nines loves him. That Nines won't be leaving him.

In the moment, Gavin's mouth falls open, he's making the neediest sounds. Little gasps, and half words, he's not making a lick of fucking sense. And he doesn't actually fucking care, not when Nines is fucking him so thoroughly. He gets a hand one Nines's arm, one of Nines's thumbs is tugging at the corner of his mouth. He backs off, thrusts gone shallow but precise as fucking anything. Nines keeps hitting his prostate, and if Gavin thought his brain was melting before, now it's – fuck, fuck, _fuck_.

'Nines.' His fingers are slick with sweat, and Nines is crowding in close, so close, just a fraction more and Nines's mouth is on Gavin's. He's vaguely, so vaguely aware, of the fact that he's hard again, he's aching, he's smearing pre-come all over the stomach of Nines's work shirt. And all he can do is groan, a little helplessly, a little fucking in over his head, low down in his throat.

Nines pulls back with a soft sigh. 'Look at that,' he says, calm as anything. 'You're making such a mess.'

Gavin can't actually say he's sorry, not as Nines pushes his thumb into Gavin's mouth, presses down on his tongue. A few more groans, hopeless as anything, his tongue quivering and soft. But it's not like Nines isn't actually looking for his excuses, after all.

'You need to stop worrying so much,' he murmurs. Can't even know what he's getting at, only: 'I'm not leaving you, Gavin.' Somehow, he gets it just right. Because they spend all of their time together, there's always that. But Nines reads him like some sort of book.

That's what proves to be too fucking much. The tears had come and gone, almost intermittently, gathering in his eyes before Gavin blinked them away. He makes a ragged sound, it's too much like a sob for his liking. But one it starts, it's a dam breaking down: he feels the hot, lazy trickle of tears sliding down his cheeks, down his nose.

The rooms spinning, Gavin's sucked down into it, dropped from on high. Reality glitches out on him, foggy around the edges, black, black, _black_. When Gavin's actually aware of what's going on, he's sitting up, and so is Nines. Nines's arms are wrapped around him, he's whispering soft nonsense against Gavin's ear. And Gavin, Gavin doesn't know, only, he does? There's something hot, and heavy, sitting in his chest, and he opens his mouth to say Nines's name, but all that comes out is another tired sob.

'Gavin?'

''M okay,' he mutters, sniffles, lifting a hand up to rub it across his face. He almost actually feels it, worn out but in a very good way. Ready to put his turbulent emotions to rest. 'Tired.'

The softest kiss is pressed to his cheek. He shivers, and groans, as Nines licks at his tears. 'I think you need to get some more sleep.'

Yeah, he does. Sometimes, he gets too fucking caught up in his head – and Nines, Nines, he's so good at figuring out what Gavin needs, to make it all better.

He closes his eyes, relaxes in Nines's embrace. Nines is right, he's almost always right. With the faintest smile on his lips, Gavin listens to Nines's thirium pump as it beats, and beats, and beats, and lets him drift off, to that sound alone.

–  
–

He wakes with a start, floating in a groggy haze of who, and when, and where. He pushes up on one arm, surveys the rest of the bed. He managed to kick the blanket off at some point, and now he's wrapped up in the sheets. Nines, he knows, is long gone.

'Fuck,' he exhales, letting his body sag back downwards. He's tired, but it's not a bad sort of feeling. Maybe he still kind of feels like shit, but that's not just gonna go away like _that_. Really, he probably feels better than he probably should, given everything else.

He doesn't have the best track record with getting a good night's sleep, but since he and Nines started having so many sleepovers, it's gotten a lot better. Still gets plagued by really shitty nightmares, but he's had a pretty shitty life. Talks in his sleep, but hey, at least he doesn't snore.

Gavin bets Hank does snore, how the fuck does Connor even put up with it? Gavin yawns, and snuggles his head into the pillow. He'd probably want to smother the fucker as soon as he was able to, but… oh well.

He drifts some more, in and out of consciousness. Gets chased after by some of those aforementioned dreams, shallow but packing a fucking punch. Makes the blood rush in his veins, makes the anxiety tighten in his chest, wriggle about in his veins, hot hard pressure behind his eyes. Fuck.

Groaning, he stretches his arm out and fumbles around, digging under one of the pillows and pulling his phone out. It's a little after three, fuck, he'd really slept late. His headache's not nearly as intense as it had been earlier that morning, and yeah, just like clockwork, there's a couple more ibuprofen out as well as another glass of water.

There's a few messages waiting for him, almost all of them from Nines, a couple of them from Tina. Sometimes, yeah, maybe he should get some more friends, but Gavin's never been that incredibly social. Nines is the best thing that's ever happened to him, _period_ , and Tina's put up with more of his bullshit than should have been humanly possible. After she got together with Lisa, no wonder she'd been so fucking happy for him and Nines, was only ever pleasant to Hank and Connor – she was in the same fucking boat as the rest of them.

Gavin rolls onto his back, dragging the sheets with him. The lock screen shows him the time, and the date, and a picture of one of his cats. Popsicle, his orange tabby, and his pink little nose with a few black markings, sniffing at the front of the phone. It's a really silly picture of a really silly cat, but it always makes Gavin smile.

He unlocks the phone and scrolls through his new messages. Behind the painstakingly organized apps, there's a pic of him and Nines, Gavin was the one who'd been holding the phone. He doesn't look awful in it (he takes horrible pictures, but that never stops Nines), and Nines looks as good as he always does. Fucking impeccable.

He taps the notification for his messenger app. Checks Tina's messages first, he's got this way he likes to go about doing these things, saving the best for last. He shoots her a message back because, yes, _mom_ , I'm not fucking dead. Then he checks on Nines's messages, and his stupid heart skips a few more beats. He knows he's letting it all get to him, but the thing is, he likes the way it makes him feel. He's had a few exes, the super controlling, possessive ones, who'd be ready to kill him when he'd not yet got around to returning their texts.

But Nines, he wasn't anything like that.

So, he reads through the updates, smiling as he does. Nines letting him know he's made it to work; Nines telling him how he was at a crime scene with Connor and he saw the nicest cat (picture attached, a pastel calico, _nice_ ); Nines wondering if they should go out for dinner or would Gavin rather eat in, and another one where Nines reminds him not to forget to have something substantial for lunch, he can't just depend on what might turn into a late dinner. And always, always, always, Nines telling Gavin that he loves him. Like, it's got to sink in eventually, Gavin's skull isn't actually that thick, and Nines isn't just saying it for his own benefit.

I love you, you deserve this, and Nines, Nines doesn't even know the _half_ of it. And sure, one of these days, maybe Gavin should ask him why, he's never actually asked him _why_. Doubts he'll like to answer he'll be given, but – 

Oh well. He's avoided it this long, he can avoid it some more.

Anyway, it's Nines, and he's proven himself already, in so many different ways. So maybe it won't be all that bad, if it ever did come to that.

With a sigh, Gavin shoots off a quick reply, but he doesn't really pay attention to what he's typing, other than suggesting that, if Nines is already worrying about dinner, then Gavin wouldn't mind if it involved some variety of pasta, pasta's always cool. Drops his phone and drags himself out of bed, stopping by the bedside table and downing the pills and the water. Stumbles through the motions of taking a shower and getting dressed. He's surprised when he sees that Nines cleaned up the mess in the kitchen before he left for work.

The kitchen, it's so fucking empty. The whole apartment used to be like that, but Nines changed things up because of Gavin. To make him feel more comfortable. Kind of ironic, after all that, that Nines spends more of his time at Gavin's apartment than he does his own. Nines's place has the giant bed, and Gavin's has the cats.

He makes himself a fresh cup of coffee, and stands in the kitchen area, drinking it down. Cleans up after himself, because he can. He's not actually a total pile of trash.

Ends up going a little further than that. He shoves his dirty clothes into his duffel bag, though Nines wouldn't have actually minded if he left them in the hamper. Nines cleans up after him way too much already, he doesn't need his android doing his laundry for him, as well. Maybe Nines hadn't been out there with Markus and Jericho, or even Connor, fighting in the fucking android revolution – as peacefully as possible, of course. Doing what they did just so androids like Nines would never know what it was like to be a human's slave. He got activated a few weeks later, when things still hadn't really settled down. Deviated within the first few hours of his existence, and Gavin's got Connor to thank for that.

So, after all that, when Nines does his fucking chores, it makes Gavin feel like he's taking advantage of him or something like that – and he hates how it makes him feel. Even when Nines only ever offers to do these things, because he says it's what he wants. Nines should know better. Nines is probably never going to learn.

Still… it's like he gets off on taking care of Gavin, or whatever, but Gavin knows it really isn't that. It isn't that fucking crass.

He almost leaves without remembering to grab his phone from the bedroom, shoving it into a pocket. Locks up after himself when he's outside the front door, standing in the long, empty hall. Leans his head against the door, just listens to the sound of silence. His heart's starting to pound, fuck, he misses Nines, he hates himself for missing him the way he does.

Stands at the curb, waiting for the cab to arrive, tapping at his phone. The air is cool, but it smells like it's going to rain. And he knows that if he times it right, he'll get to his apartment before his lunch arrives. And yeah, maybe he does feel a little like he's been reduced to nothing but a completely blank slate, reset to factory default (maybe Nines would enjoy that stupid ass joke). The feeling, sensation of it, whatever, it's not exactly _bad_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decided, randomly, to split this up into two chapters. 20k in one document is pretty hefty, oof

His apartment building isn't the most modern place ever, but it's a whole lot nicer than his old building had been. The security is much better, and so's the neighborhood, there's also that – hey, he's a cop like he is, he's allowed to be paranoid about shit like that. There's open access to the roof, the view is fantastic, he and Nines have spent a lot of time up there together. Plus, it's a close enough walk to a couple of places Gavin really likes to eat at, even a few museums and libraries that he dragged Nines out to explore with him. All residents have access to a built-in gym and pool on the ground floor, which Gavin likes to take advantage of when he feels like going out but not actually _out_. Nines likes taking advantage of it, too.

He drops the duffel bag at the end of the foyer, next to the mat where he keeps his shoes and a few stray cat toys. Pulls his jacket off, and throws it up on the hook. Gets chirped at by Popsicle, who then barrels into his leg, headbutting him a couple of time before Gavin gives in to his demands. Gavin stoops down to pick the cat up, gives its furry little head a kiss. Popsicle chirps at him again and pokes at his eye with a paw, and as Gavin wanders by the couch, he lets him back down. There's no sign of Minerva, but she's probably underneath the bed. Again. Like fucking always. Plotting the downfall of humanity, or something like that. Cassie's also doing that anti-social thing she sometimes does, atop one of the shelves she doesn't tend to get stuck on. He understands the mood.

The automatic feeder and water bowl have been topped off, Mrs Riley must have been by recently. She's cool for a little old lady, and it's not like she doesn't already have enough cats of her own. Gavin's pretty glad she's so fucking agreeable, since because of his schedule, he doesn't always get to come home at what should be the end of his day. He's given her one of the spare keys, so she'll pop in a few times a day if Gavin's not already in, and make sure the cats are taken care of.

They all like the extra attention, anyway. And they're all pretty fucking fascinated with Nines – even Minerva, when she's in a gregarious enough mood.

A soft swell of _something_ warms him from the inside out as his gaze falls onto the vase of roses that he'd placed at at the far end of the kitchen counter. The flowers Nines had brought him, the night before, when he was picking him up for the double date, because he loved that sort of sappy bullshit. It was sitting close to the potted cactus that Nines had brought with him, as well, the day of their first actual date.

And now he's smiling, smiling because of Nines – God, Nines is such a fucking sap, really, they both are. Wishes he was there already, he'd kiss Gavin hard enough, or soft enough, _whatever_ , to keep him from getting stuck in his own head.

A couple of petals have fallen to the counter-top – probably because of one of the cats – and Gavin picks one of them up, rubs it between his fingers. Notes how velvety soft it is. Wishes Nines was there already, just a little bit more. Picks up the other one as well, and then heads over to dump them in the trash. That's when there's a buzz from the front door – which means the delivery guy has arrived.

He makes sure he's got his wallet on him, then buzzes back at the guy to let him know that he's on the way down. After he gets back up to his apartment, he grabs a bottled water from out of the fridge. Nines had told him to make sure to eat something substantial, and the bowl of potato corn chowder and bacon grilled cheese sandwich he'd ordered should probably do the trick. Not actually healthy, but Gavin works out enough that it's not a problem. Nines is more concerned with his nicotine addiction, but he's not made Gavin quit cold turkey.

He sits down in the breakfast nook and arranges his food. Almost immediately, because of course she'd show up when food came into play, he has to pick Cassie up off the table and deposit her to the side (they go through this all the fucking time).

'That's people food, Cassie,' he tells her. 'You've got your crunchy stuff, go eat that.'

She meows at him, and he meows back. Keeps a close eye on his food as he starts eating. He's not always such a hard ass about it, sometimes he does actually share his food. But not today. Anyways, it's not like she's the worst of the furry little monsters that he's taken into his home (that would be Minerva). But, when he first adopted her, she was definitely the most anxious. Never let him touch her, only, she'd sit near him, a little closer each time, like she was getting used to him in her own way. But she still had her fucking limits, and Gavin respected that.

Hey, he's a gay man with anxiety. Why not have a cat with anxiety, right?

But she's doing much better. Used to shed her fur all over the fucking place, well, only her back half. So half of her was a normal gray tabby and her butt-end looked like one of those kind of disturbing hairless cats that aren't actually weird, they're cute in their own way. But now, after living with Gavin for a few years, she's fluffy again, fluffy all over – but she's still some kind of fucking horrible. Always trying to steal his food, and she's the only one of the cats that gets up on the table when he's eating, even though she knows it's against the rules.

Still likes to get stuck up on the refrigerator, too. Never knows how to get down, so it's up to Gavin or Nines to save her.

He eats, and scrolls through the latest version of tumblr, because fuck, it's not like that hellsite is ever going to actually die – no, just when you think the end is finally near, some other iteration of it decides to exist. Idly wonders if Nines is going to message him again, or if he'll have to wait until he comes over that evening before he gets to see him.

He drops his phone, sets his food aside. It's gonna be hours until he sees Nines again, and he fucking how that makes him feel: lost, and lonely, fucking miserable as hell, and pissed off at himself for being in such a shit mood when the night before had been so fucking _nice_. He drags his phone over and stares down at it, knows he could just text Nines and leave it at that. Nines would get back to him almost immediately, unless something really stressful and important was going on. And usually, if Gavin wasn't being a waste of fucking space, he'd be there too.

Suddenly, he doesn't feel all that hungry anymore. He's wasted one meal today already, so he boxes the sandwich up and puts the soup in a tupperware bowl, and shoves it all into he fridge. Wanders out of the kitchen, heading for his bedroom, but he only makes it halfway.

He decides he's gone far enough, lays down right there in the middle of the hall. Curls in on himself, presses his hands to his forehead. The floor is cold. He feels too fucking hot. And sure, he hears his phone buzzing where it's vibrating against the kitchen table, but that's a whole fucking world away from him now, fuck that. The buzzing eventually stops, and he probably wouldn't have even answered if if he could have. He fucking hates having to talk on the phone, but it's something he has to do, sometimes, because of work. So he avoids it whenever he can, so he can manage it when he has to.

Fuck you, anonymous caller. I don't want whatever you're selling.

Something with whiskers butts against one of his hands, and he lowers an arm just to get an eyeful of Popsicle's pink and black nose. With a sigh, he reaches out and starts petting the cat, stroking all the way down his back to the top of his tail. The cat's purring in no time at all, and he drops down and starts kneading at Gavin's shoulder with all of his prickly claws.

He winces a few times, keeps on petting the cat. Hates being so fucking lonely, when he doesn't actually mind being alone. 'Yeah, yeah, I get it. I like you too.'

The cat's eyes slip shut, and his purring motor kicks it up a few more notches. 'You don't get it. I don't think I do either, I mean, it's no big deal.' He sighs, and keeps on stroking his fingers through soft orange fur. 'You're so fucking orange, you know that? Why are you so orange?'

Nines would smile at him, or maybe laugh. He's so fucking stupid for trying to have conversations with one of his cats.

'I can't actually stay here all day, you know. I know you're having a ton of fucking fun, but I need to get up.'

Popsicle's eyes crack open, and the kneading intensifies as the cat purrs so hard, he starts to make these chirpy little snorts. Gavin, as much as he loves the attention, can't just lay on the floor for the rest of the fucking day, even though Popsicle has no fucking problem with him doing just that.

'Yeah, that's it. I'm going to the gym.'

–  
–

Over the course of a half hour or so, he beats on the heavy bag at the back of the complex's ground floor gym. Makes sure to warm up first, and cool down afterwards, because otherwise Nines might gripe at him for not taking as good care of himself as he would have, if Nines had been there too.

He really did make the workouts more _fun_ , and it's not like Gavin hadn't been missing him already. Especially when Gavin felt absolutely filthy, dirty and sweaty, when he was ready to overheat, Nines would push him aside and tell him the most ridiculous things, while he licked the sweat from Gavin's skin. Something about all the data he was collecting, how it was close to overwhelming; he'd list off the different components he'd tasted in Gavin's sweat, like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. And it was pretty fucking hot in its own way, wonder of fucking wonders.

Then Nines would say something low, and sincere, like, how he loved how Gavin tasted. That he'd never get enough of it. Like that was just the sort of thing that you'd go and _say_. At least if you were Nines.

Then, of course, he'd cut that part of the conversation short. Because he could be a huge fucking tease. Make some sort of smart-ass comment about them needing to focus, but suddenly Gavin was in less than top form, Nines didn't _understand_ what was going on, he was playing it so fucking coy. And it all kind of fell apart after that, because Nines would only tease him so much, finally giving him some mercy. He'd drag Gavin somewhere private, make short work of him. _Fuck_.

Well… it wasn't really all that bad. Fucking around where they weren't supposed to, that was always a rush. The risk of getting caught. Nines had a really free-spirit, he was fun loving and sure, maybe they spent a lot of their time just cuddled up at the apartment, but that was really nice. They did go out on plenty of dates, and shit like that. And Gavin's not stupid, he knows Nines doesn't go and show that side of himself to just anyone.

No, that Nines, that part of Nines was only for Gavin to see. Maybe it'll always be that way. But maybe, Nines still isn't as good at this being human thing as he'd like, even though it's been deviant for more than a year.

–  
–

He towels off but doesn't actually take a shower. His hair's still damp as he locks the front door behind him, and he digs his phone out, checks his messages. Nines has left work for the day, Gavin should expect to see him by seven. It's just after six thirty, so, that's not too long a wait.

Still, it is a wait. He changes into something soft and comfortable, an old hoodie and some loose shorts. Leaves his phone charging on the kitchen table, next to where Cassie is curled up like a little croissant. He pats her on the head and she gives a little _mrrph_ as he makes his way to the window that leads to the fire escape.

He opens up the window, crawls out, and sits. Leans his back into the brickwork behind him, digs out a cigarette from one of his pockets and then lights up. Nines isn't there to make him stop, and he hasn't had a fucking cigarette since _yesterday_ – and yeah, he's cut down, he seriously has. Maybe another vice will take its place – sounds like something he'd have said, once upon a time – but that's just how shit goes.

He deserves this, if only the one – he's a little stressed out still, he know it will calm him down. And hell, Nines won't be here for a while yet, anyway. He won't know if Gavin decides to have two.

He smokes, and a haze of relaxation wafts over him. Makes him feel like his heart isn't perpetually running fifteen miles a minute. Takes that chip on his shoulder, and throws it the fuck out. Makes him think too much, there's just no stopping it – Nines has met his mom, knows his family history with smoking. He'll kick this one day, he will. Just… not fucking today.

He drops his head back so the very back of it is resting against the wall. It smells like spring on the outskirts of the city, and it's pretty chilly in the shadow of his apartment building.

It's peaceful out here, almost always is. Gavin likes coming out here, sometimes because he needs to think. Sometimes, he's been thinking too much, and he needs to stop. Sure, he could go up to the roof, if he wanted to – if he was feeling extra. But, he's not. He's not really sure _what_ he feels, actually.

Popsicle is pawing at the window. Gavin turns and looks down at him, flicks the ash from the end of his cigarette. Puts his hand against the glass as Popsicle paws at it a few more times. 'Silly cat,' he mutters. 'I know you wanna fucking come out here too, but you can't. You'll fall or something. I'll actually die if that happens, so just, stay the fuck inside.'

Popsicle's pawing increases in speed as he chirps at Gavin through the glass. Gavin turns away from him, rests his head against the wall again. Takes another drag of his cigarette. 'Silly fucking cat.'

The window squeaks a little when Nines starts to open it. Gavin knows it's Nines. The cats probably couldn't open the window, even if they all worked together, and Minerva is a fucking tyrant who'd probably end up taking over the world if Gavin ever let her out of the apartment. She definitely wouldn't play nicely with Cassie and Popsicle, when it came to working together and getting something done.

'Hey,' he mutters, as Nines crawls out onto the fire escape with him. The metal does groan a little, but the building's old. He knows the building is up to code, and anyhow, Nines wouldn't let him out here if he thought it wasn't _safe_.

The window squeaks some more as Nines shuts it, before any of the cats can get out. 'You should probably get that looked at.' That's Nines-speak for, _If you don't take the time to do it, then I will do it for you._

'I'll message the maintenance guy about it, don't worry.'

'Hrm.' Nines scoots closer, his arm bumping into Gavin's. 'Alright.'

'How was work?' He inches a little bit closer, hungry for the touch. Unless they're on the clock and Gavin's attempting to act with some sort of polite decorum, they're not all that big on PDA; other than that, even if it's only in the smallest ways possible, they always seem to be touching. The most casual of things, or ones with the most intent. But when it's just them, Gavin's always ready to press close, let Nines touch him, to touch Nines in return.

And as for work, if it happened to come up, Gavin doesn't give two flying fucks about what people think about him and Nines dating; that he's in a relationship with an android, after he used to act like he hated them (but he's not the only one, like, Tina's dating her android partner too! And don't even get him started on Hank and Connor! Next Chris is gonna start dating Alex, the PC200 he's been partnered with for the last six months… though Gavin's pretty sure his wife would probably have something to say about _that_ , but who knows what. Maybe she's also into that sort of thing!).

See, if there's one thing that Gavin keeps on learning, people are allowed to make mistakes, people are allowed to admit they were wrong, people are allowed to change for the fucking better, and yeah, whatever. Maybe one of these days, they're going to get internal affairs on their back for whatever fucking reason. But it's not an issues, really, as far as Gavin sees it – since he and Nines get the fucking job done, Fowler hasn't actually give them any grief.

And he likes it, he likes it a lot, the touching. What it usually leads to. It's a few other little things he probably doesn't deserve, but Nines continues to humor him. Always humors him. Like he really wants this to work out, whatever it really is (he knows exactly what it is). Like, maybe Gavin's actually been wrong about everything. That some things are supposed to last forever. And yeah, he's still allowed to hope.

'Nothing you should worry about, tonight. You'll witness it for yourself, tomorrow, after all.' Nines watches him, studies him, cautious as fucking anything. 'Your heart rate has spiked – is something wrong?'

Gavin shrugs, he doesn't actually feel like talking about it, so sue him, if isn't anything serious, he doesn't always have to open himself up. 'You tell anyone why I wasn't at work?'

'Well, I did have a talk with Connor and the Lieutenant. They now believe that you were overwhelmed by last night's activities, as well as what followed this morning.'

Gavin hadn't even been blushing, but now it's like he's about to catch fire. 'You fucking prick.'

Nines smirks at him, the way he'd have smirked at Nines if their places had been switched. 'Guilty as charged.'

He slides an arm around Gavin's waist, tugging him close. Gavin crushes out his cigarette out on the metal railing beside him, and flicks it to the narrow alleyway, so fucking far below. Turns a little, pressing into Nines, giving a little sigh. Touch, touch, _touch_.

'Missed you,' Gavin says. Low. Like it's too soft a thing for him to say, let alone actually speak up and project himself while he was doing it. 'Even if you're a fucking monster. One of my own creation, I should probably add.'

He's still smirking, the little shit who's actually taller than Gavin by a long shot. 'That's clearly what I get for spending so much time around you. Everything that's wrong with me, I can blame it on you.'

'Yeah, whatever. It's better than being a boring old fucking machine, just doing whatever your mission tells you to do because it's how you were programmed.'

At that, Nines's expression softens. 'You're very right about that.' He doesn't say anything else. They've talked, a little, about how Nines was supposed to replace Connor, if he happened to fail in his task to hunt down deviants, to destroy them if that was what it came to. To somehow stop the deviant epidemic before it was out of control.

But all it was, was people wanting to be free, it was always out of control. And there's nothing wrong with that. Sure, maybe Gavin's biased as fuck, all because of Nines. He likes Nines, of course he likes Nines. He likes Nines better than anything else. He sure as fuck likes Nines better than he likes himself.

Anyhow, by the time Nines activated, the androids had resolved their revolution in the most peaceful manner possible. CyberLife had been struck a crippling blow, and humanity wasn't as keen to look at the androids like pieces of unfeeling plastic anymore.

And eh, Connor, really, Connor's not all that bad. But Nines is way better.

And they took everything that made Connor _good_ , and then they made Nines Bigger, stronger, faster, all of that fucking shit. A walking fucking wet dream, on top of everything else, at least to one Gavin Reed.

Another huff, the softest of sighs. 'I don't believe you, Gavin – something is clearly on your mind.' He taps the side of Gavin's side, tilts his own. 'What's going on in there?'

'You really want to know?'

'I wouldn't have asked if I didn't wish to know the answer.'

'Well, whatever. You asked for it.'

'Literally, just seconds ago.'

'You're hot as fuck, okay? Your ass is fucking perfection, and you like me? You love me? I don't fucking get it, Nines, I just don't. I guess I lucked out, with you.' Blurting it out stupidly is probably the best way for him to do anything, like, it gets the job done.

'I… okay?' Nines doesn't actually know what to say, which is pretty fucking priceless. 'Okay.'

Gavin leans his head forward, eyes crinkling as he starts to laugh, and ends up unable to stop himself. A little helplessly, even, before he mashes his face against Nines's shoulder and tries to get the giggles back under control. And he notices, Nines had taken off his jacket already. He was in one of his dark work shirts, probably a different one than he'd originally been wearing that morning. Since Gavin had, quite neatly, fucked it up.

It really had been one hell of a morning.

Nines's hand skims up his back, comes to rest at the nape of his neck. Nines's lips press a soft kiss into the fucking mess of his hair, and Gavin draws back, slowly, stares him in the face.

With his other hand, Nines strokes his face, gently. Fingers against his cheek, the lightest touch as he caresses the scar on Gavin's nose. The brush of his lips as he places kiss after kiss up the line of Gavin's jaw, all the way up to his ear. He gets pretty frisky, too. Gavin's going to have some hickeys tomorrow, but fuck, he doesn't actually mind. He'll keep them hidden, whatever. He'll try to be professional about it. But he sure as hell doesn't always mind it, showing that he belongs to Nines.

That Nines chose _him_.

'I picked up some things for dinner,' Nines tells him. 'I thought we could make lasagna.'

Gavin actually loves to cook his own meals, he always has, but Nines had just been sucking on his neck like he meant to suck out his soul. He stares at Nines, a little blankly, and still kind of turned on? 'That… that's pretty cool, actually. You know I like it when you help me cook, it's a lot of fucking fun.'

Nines's LED is yellow again, and he leans in close, dipping his head down low. As he licks Gavin's cheek, giving a little hum of pleasure as he does. 'You've worked out.'

Gavin nods, tilts his head into it. 'Didn't shower afterwards, thought you might want to get a taste. You fucking weirdo.'

He shudders as Nines breathes against him. It's suddenly the best fucking idea he's ever had, giving Nines better access to his skin, and maybe if he's very, _very_ lucky, Nines will go back to leaving more of those delicious marks on his neck.

'...we could… shower later… maybe?' His voice is shaking as Nines, in no fucking hurry whatsoever, laps at his neck with long, slow, wet licks of his tongue. It's almost a little like he's never done it before (only he has); like he's doing it for the first time ever, all over again. It's definitely a little bit dizzying, Gavin's too high on it and he's falling too low – the dampness on his skin, and the little prickles of heat that buzz with a soft, electric thrum. Gavin groans and clutches at Nines with both of his hands, never actually planning on letting go.

That's when the sucking starts up again, and the biting follows, and after a few long moments, of Nines's mouth making a fucking show of his throat, Gavin _whimpers_ because it's almost the only thing he can actually fucking articulate. And then, gasping, 'Nines?'

That's all it takes for Nines to break off, to pull away, and Gavin fucking hates it because that wasn't what he was aiming for. (Nines said he wouldn't _leave_.) Gavin blinks a couple of times, shakes his head. Nines, he needs to remind himself, sometimes (like he could ever forget), is a massive fucking tease.

'Dinner first,' Nines tells him, in such a matter-of-fact tone. 'We can play later, that is, if you still want to.'

Like Nines would even have to _ask_.

But he does, he does, he always _does_.

–  
–

Dinner proceeds as planned. Nines rolls up his sleeves and reminds Gavin to wash his hands, since he'd just finished wiping the kitchen counter down. Popsicle has made himself known, twining around Nines's legs and rubbing up against him. Gavin sighs. 'He's pretty fucking shameless. You know, he loves you,' he says, and then he looks at Nines, and Nines is looking at him, and Gavin flusters because sometimes you say something and it's got _layers_ to it, ones you couldn't have possibly meant.

I love you, I love you, I love _you_. He doesn't even know if he's thinking about how Nines says it, and says it, and says it, trying to make it sink in, or if it's his mind's way of trying to tell Nines that he loves him, too, only, without him actually fucking saying anything.

Because he does, he _does_ , he's not that stupid. That blind. The words, they get stuck in his throat, or die on his tongue. And Nines, he's never tried to push it out of him, has told him time and time again that he sees how Gavin loves him, even if he can't manage the words. All the times he tells Gavin how he feels, it's not his way of manipulating Gavin into saying something he's not ready to say. Because he's a decent person.

And sure, it had been too much, the first time Nines had ever even said it. And Gavin, he'd freaked out. Tried throwing it all away. Finally worked up the nerve to try and make things better, and Nines took him back. And never let him go.

So, Gavin's still taking his time. And Nines has given him all the time in the world.

And _now_ – 

He's done it one time today already, thought things he should have known to avoid. He notices he's about to start doing the same fucking thing, and makes himself _stop_.

But the look on Nines's face is gentle, and Gavin's (stupid, remember, the fucking thing is stupid) heart skips a few dizzying beats as the cat chirps and reminds them of his presence.

He goes back to chopping vegetables for the salad that's supposed to go with the pasta. Nines won't make nearly as much a mess with the sauce and everything else, than Gavin would if he was the one who was supposed to be in charge of it.

'Maybe we should…'

Sometimes, it's like Nines can read his fucking mind. His stereo system starts up and smooth jazz starts playing. 'Connor tells me, the Lieutenant is also a big fan of this genre. I'm somewhat surprised to see you have some of the same tastes.'

Gavin can't even look Nines in the eyes, after that one. Because he's blushing. Because it hits too fucking close to home. Because it makes him remember what his and Hank's relationship used to be – that is, back when they were actually friends. The crush, the one that Hank was never aware of. And then, when... When, whatever, it doesn't actually matter. Just, sometimes, _fuck_. He wants to take it all back. Somehow repair all the years of fucking damage, as if a simple 'I'm sorry' would ever be enough. It would at least have to be a start, right? But Hank's too fucking smart, he'd never believe it, and Gavin's not apologized for worse. Even if Gavin was telling the truth, and yeah, he resents it, sometimes, he resents it a lot, that Hank can't see that he's changed.

You get so used to being an asshole, that's what you are. And Gavin's trying, Nines makes him want to _try_. But sometimes, he falls back on those really bad habits of his, he doesn't really know how to be anything else. Here, alone with Nines, he can live a life other than the illusion he presents when he's face to face with pretty much anyone else.

Nines is the only person (yes, _person_ ) who really gets who he _is_.

(Hank… Hank used to. But Gavin sure as hell fucked that up.)

'Gavin?'

Nines is probably analyzing him again, it's what he fucking does. Bites his lip and sighs, goes back to dicing tomatoes. 'Sorry, just, it's a good song. I like it.'

'...oh.'

Gavin stops. Sets the knife aside, turns to look at the other counter, where Nines was prepping the pasta. He's just standing there, and from this angle, sure, Gavin can't see his LED. Still, he kind of seems to be stuck. Gavin needs to give him a prod.

'Nines?'

'I… maybe, after dinner. We could…'

'What?'

'I've never danced.'

'...oh. I mean, sure. After dinner?'

Nines nods, but doesn't look his way. There's a release of pressure in Gavin's chest, and he smiles at Nines's back, shakes his head in bewilderment. 'Yeah, let's do that. Sounds like fun.' Fun, _fun_. Because it probably couldn't hurt. Because he wants to be happy, sometimes. Because he wants to be happy with Nines, all of the fucking time. Because it's been ten fucking months, and they've done pretty much everything already, so how could they have fucking missed this?

He turns back to what he was doing, and throws all the bad feelings away – just for the night. He starts to hum along with the song, and he tries to _believe_.

–  
–

Cassie tries to make a scene but Nines gently sets her on his lap, and begins to pet her. Gavin, knowing from personal experience just how fucking nice it feels to get petted by Nines, isn't surprised when the cat stops being such a fucking beggar and starts purring and kneading Nines's pants. She hates being touched, but of course there's a caveat: she adores it when Nines is the one who's doing the petting, like him being an android makes him so much better than your average fucking human.

Still, Gavin doesn't mind. It means he can focus on eating. Nines made way too much lasagna, but he also portioned it out and put most of it in the freezer. So now, maybe for the next few weeks, Gavin can have something tasty whenever he wants, without having to rely on delivery or having to make something else from scratch.

'Oh.' Nines sighs.

Gavin stares at him, as he stares out blankly. Cassie starts meowing at him, that whiny little meow of hers that makes Gavin do pretty much anything she wants (except give her his fucking food, especially when it's full of fucking garlic). She's a manipulative little furry shit who's got them both mostly wrapped around her little paws. And yeah, Gavin's to blame for _that_.

Nines's LED is flashing yellow, oh, he's probably receiving a message or something like that. And then his LED cycles over to blue, and he frowns.

'There some sort of problem?' Gavin asks.

'You have sauce on your chin.'

'Oh. Well, I'd ask you to lick it off, but you don't look like you're in the mood.' He wipes at it with the back of his hand, which makes Nines frown at him some more, so Gavin picks up a napkin and makes a show of carefully wiping himself clean.

'Better?'

'Fractionally.'

'Come on, what's – '

'Another couple has been found.'

Oh – _oh_ , it takes a moment and then it's slamming into him, it's _that_ fucking case. Gavin drops his fork, it hits the table with a thunk. 'Well, fuck.' Man, he hates this fucking case.

'We're expected on scene. I have the address, and I've already contacted a cab.'

'But – ' Nines is already up, having set Cassie to the side. She wanders into the living room with a few more whiny little meows, and jumps up onto the couch, where Popsicle is already sleeping (and Minerva, the queen of monsters and demons alike, is (like usual), skulking somewhere in the darkness, nowhere to be seen). Nines looks like he's about to start putting the food up, or something like that, only then he just stops. His LED is stuck on red.

Gavin gets up, hurries over to him. Puts a hand on his arm, and Nines flinches.

'Sorry,' he says, very softly, and Gavin has to smile at him, act like it doesn't feel like he'd just been punched.

'It's okay, okay? I know you fucking hate having to work on this case, this killer – he's a real fucking piece of shit.' Likes to go after android-human couples, and whenever they're actively working on the case, fuck, he knows it makes Nines think about _them_. It's gotta be pretty fucking similar, when it comes to Hank and Connor. Tina, and Lisa. All the other humans and androids who happen to be in love with each other, who never know if they might end up being targeted next.

Nines's LED cycles yellow and red for a few moments, then goes back to red. 'Connor and the Lieutenant will also be attending.'

'Of fucking course, this case is as much theirs as it is ours.'

'I…'

'You really don't have to go, you know that? I can deal with this shit myself.' Nines had been there for him when he'd been breaking down, right? It hadn't even been the first time it had happened. Nines needs to know that Gavin, while he's still a fucking asshole sometimes, is just as ready to be there for _him_.

'No,' Nines says, with a small sigh. His LED is flickering yellow now, with faint traces of red. 'As much as I don't like it, it still is my responsibility. Just…' He shakes his head, and Gavin gives his arm a tight squeeze. 'It's been a very nice night. I was looking forward to dancing.'

Gavin hesitates. 'Well… what's the cab's ETA?'

Nines's LED flickers yellow. 'Twenty five minutes. The traffic at this time of the night is particularly hectic.'

Gavin nods, makes up his mind. 'Perfect. We've got plenty of time then, dancing can still happen.'

He blinks, as if Gavin's decided to surprise him, quite unexpectedly so. And it feels good, Gavin has to admit. Nines is so fucking _sharp_ , always on top of things – little moments like this, they're a rarity. 'Come on, get up. Let's do this.'

Nines nods, and follows after him, even as he says, 'You really should change into something before we leave… and I should tidy up the kitchen, otherwise the cats are likely to make a real mess of things.'

'Five minutes, okay? Give me five minutes.'

'Alright – five minutes.'

Gavin switches the stereo back on, and the same music from before starts playing. He only ever got into jazz because it was something Hank had liked, but he's thought enough about that old crush for one fucking lifetime, already, he really needs to stop. Gavin loves Nines, even if – even if saying it, he doesn't know how to _say_ it. And Nines sure as hell loves him.

He turns around, and Nines is standing there. Waiting for him. Smiling softly, quietly apprehensive. Gavin rubs at the back of his neck, because Nines's nervousness is catching. 'This really would be easier if you just, like, downloaded it, you know.'

'Yes, but that would tarnish the experience, for both of us.' With a look that's _knowing_ , he steps closer. 'I'll let you lead.'

Gavin lets out a low sigh, but he lifts his hand up. Nines's slips onto his, warm like it always is. 'I mean, you're still gonna dance laps around me, you know that, right? I'm no good at this shit.'

'I've never danced before, Gavin,' he murmurs, with a very small smile. 'I think that puts us on equal footing.'

'Yeah, but you – you adapt better than I do. You're gonna be a natural. Okay, so, put your other hand up on my shoulder – yeah, like that.' He swallows, and edges a little closer. Lets his hand rest a little above Nines's hip, presses into the fabric with the tips of his fingers, smiles. 'I have no fucking idea what I'm doing here.'

'I think you're doing marvelously already.'

Gavin's cheeks flood with heat. 'Alright, so just… step back like this… now to the side… and don't let me step on your feet.' Nines doesn't laugh at him for that. No, Nines just goes with the flow, LED flickering yellow, and Gavin tries to focus on his face, and not on keeping track of their feet.

'This is… nice. Perhaps we could do… more of it.'

'Oh yeah, sure,' Gavin replies, nervously wetting his lips. 'We could watch some tutorials and actually do this shit properly, this isn't actually an official dance.' If it is, Gavin doesn't actually know the name. And if it is, it doesn't really fit the music – just, it's nice, actually, it's nicer than pretty much anything, really. Intimately close, a soft swelling of heat. Slow, and steady. Nines's movements are perfectly graceful, and Gavin can't help but stare.

And yet, Nines smiles. 'Doesn't matter if it's official or not, I'm still enjoying myself.' His LED cycles yellow, then blue. 'Are you enjoying yourself, Gavin?' It's asked in such a soft, telling way.

God, _yes_. He nods, nips at his bottom lip. Gathers a big breath, slowly breathes it out. He leans his head forwards, resting against Nines. He thinks about every single thing Nines has ever done for him, wonders about everything that's going to follow. He's looking forward to spending the rest of his dumb life with Nines, and Nines – there's nothing dumb about him. But Nines acts like he's the forever sort of guy, as well, and Gavin… Gavin can't deserve that. Never will.

He just wants to squeeze Nines to him, and never let go. Hope this moment never fades from his memory. I love you, I love you, I love you, but only some of that was in his head, he knows his lips are moving. 'I love you,' he mumbles, a little less unsure of himself. 'I love you so fucking much.'

Gavin's still sorting through the enormity of what he's said, that he's able to say it at all, when Nines's hold on him tightens. Oh, fuck. Like, it got said, and now – it's a slow sort of revelation falling over him before the reality of it punches him in the face. He's said what he's said, and he expects – something. A cold wriggle of anxiety, worming away under his skin. Something hot, or tight, or heavy, weighing down his gut. _Anything_. But all he really feels, in the moment, is fucking relieved, he's light as fucking air. It's such a weight off his shoulders, such a weight off his heart.

Nines moves one of his hands, nudges a finger against Gavin's chin. Gavin swallows, lifts his head back up. Stares at Nines, holding his breath. Nines is smiling at him, very softly. His eyes are cold but warm, if that makes any fucking sense, and Gavin lets out his held breath in a quick, giddy rush. 'I really do love you,' he whispers, fuck, why is he whispering? 'I'm sorry it took me so long to fucking say it.'

'I never doubted you, Gavin. I'd have continued to wait as long as you needed.' And the thing is, Gavin believes him – because Nines has never proven himself as anything _but_. 'I love you, too.'

–  
–

Standing around at a crime scene when he'd rather be anywhere else, what a fucking glorious way to end the day. Gavin jams his hands down into the pocket of his jacket, shifting from one foot to the other, glowering at nothing in particular. He kind of wants a cigarette but it's not worth the effort of wandering outside of the area that's been taped off, there's something about contaminating the crime scene and then getting nagged at for doing it that puts a bad taste in his mouth.

The kissing and the dancing had ended all too quickly, because the taxi had finally arrived. What a fucking horrible turn of events, like, could he be more dramatic? People were _dead_. Still, maybe when they got back to his place, Nines would want to dance some more? He'd been just as disappointed as Gavin when it had come to an end.

With a sigh, Gavin goes back to watching Connor and Nines, and if he smiles at Nines a little longer than he usually would – and he smiles at him a whole fucking lot – well, he hates that they have to be at the crime scene, of course, but underneath that shitty fucking mood, he's feeling pretty great. Nines has always known how he felt, he never doubted Gavin, but Gavin sure as hell feels better, being able to say the words.

Connor and Nines, though, are standing across the room, 'talking shop'. They've been all over the crime scene already, analyzed pretty much everything before moving on to sticking the evidence into their mouths – after that, they'd be able to compare notes. Connor had even dipped his fingers into the dead android's blood before offering it to Nines for further analysis.

And Gavin, he'd watched, of course he'd fucking watched. Nines had cocked his head to one side, and maybe it was just the shitty lighting in the room, the flicker of police lights from outside, the overall creepiness factor making itself fucking known, but Gavin was pretty fucking certain that Nines had glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. The slightest hint of a smirk, right at the corner of his mouth.

Then, acting like it was nothing, Nines had licked at the sample impassively, and his LED had flashed yellow. Gavin, of course, had just kept staring, he couldn't look away. Nines had a really great mouth, a really fantastic tongue. Hell, Connor's was pretty competent, as well. But that didn't actually do anything to help Gavin forget that they stuck all sorts of weird substances in there, a whole hell of a lot of blood. And sure, Nines had started to tell him, once, about how his mouth had a self-sanitizing function but Gavin's eyes had glazed over. There's times he wishes he'd paid more attention. Like now.

He'll never actually understand why CyberLife did any of the things it did, but he guessed that a lot of it came down to the fact that their original CEO was a fucking pervert of epic proportions. Some people are impressed by all that Kamski's accomplished. But some people, like Gavin, they just wonder why Kamski had to make it all so fucking _weird_?

So your fancy-pants criminal investigation android is going to have an on-site forensics lab, that's really fucking cool and it'll save a ton of time. Why not pop it in his android's fucking _mouth_ , cause it's not like that isn't freaky as fucking hell or anything, right?

Connor smiles at something that Nines has said, and Gavin glowers some more and turns his head away. Connor's been nothing but polite to him since he and Nines had shown up, had greeted Gavin with a smile and a sincere 'Good evening, Detective. You're looking well'. And sure, Gavin had to fight down the blush that was threatening to erupt on his face, and he blamed it on Connor acting like nothing had actually happened between them. Because he couldn't help it that he'd started thinking about last night, when Connor had been anything but _polite_. And, ah, _fuck_. It'd been good. He's kind of glad Hank had been pleased with it, too, since he'd really like something like it to happen again. Yeah, even if Hank had to be there, too.

Speak of the fucking devil. 'Well, what have you found out?' Hank's come back into the room where the bodies are situated, lots of clean gray walls and plastic divides. Splatters of blood on the wall behind the human victim, where her brains had been blown out, as well as on the stack of concrete blocks that she was sitting against – just like always, it's not like they'd been positioned after they were dead, though if they'd been restrained at all, that was all removed. Nothing visible of his own blood on the android, or what he was propped against, there'd been plenty of time for the thirium to dry up. His girlfriend's blood? Yeah, that was a totally different story.

They already knew that they'd been killed on sight, the killer was a fucking fastidious cleaner. But it looked as if they were sitting together, enjoying each other's company. Just, splattered with blood, too much of the shit.

Gavin shifts a little, and turns the other way, then sighs and leans back against the wall. This time, he folds his arms over his chest and frowns.

Nines nods at Connor, and then Connor speaks up. 'The android is a LM100, name registered as Craig Smith.' That was different. Most androids didn't worry about picking out a surname, but maybe it was a connection to the life he'd led before the revolution, a positive one. Some androids were still on good enough terms with their former owners, as weird as that might sound.

'The human is Rebecca Brown, aged twenty-seven. Neither of them have any criminal record. Given the congealing of her blood, and the state of her body – plus the temperature of the building, I've also factored that in – I'd state that her time of death was no earlier than seven thirty-five.'

'So,' Hank says, 'Craig couldn't have lasted much longer than that.' He was staring at Rebecca's face, probably glad that Connor had taken the time to close her eyes. The blood trickling down from the bullet hole in the center of her forehead had long since dried, splintered out delicately, like cracks in glass, dark and wispy. Gavin's seen it plenty of times before, but he never really gets over it. How the heart of her loved one is jammed inside her mouth.

Neither of them have shirts on anymore, their killer always deemed them useless. Gavin's sure they'll get the same off them as all the others that have come before them – how neat a job the killer had done as he cracked their chests open, shattering their ribs. Get a look at all the grisly bits inside, and all of android's malfunctioning biocomponents.

Rebecca had bled out some, there was blood all over her long skirt. Hadn't been dead long enough for her postmortem lividity to set in. The killer had cleaned all around her body – there was the faint sting of industrial strength cleanser underneath the grit of construction and all of the blood. All of Craig's thirium, it'd evaporated already. Nines and Connor, he knows, can still see traces of it, all over the place, clear as fucking day.

The sound of Nines's voice lulls him out of that, and Gavin turns to face him. '… that the building is undergoing some remodeling, but the site manager closed things down early Friday. They likely were brought here shortly after that, though they weren't discovered until Sunday evening.'

Gavin finally decides to put his two cents in. 'Anything from the CCTV?'

'No,' says Nines. 'Like usual, it seems to have been tampered with. No fingerprints, nor any trace of latex – I know it's been said before, but I starting to believe our killer must be an android.'

'I mean, they could just be human? Be really good at what they do?'

'I doubt they could be _that_ good.'

All Gavin can manage is a low, annoyed sigh. 'That's just fucking great. Well, who found them?'

A slight shrug. 'The informant wishes to remain anonymous.'

'Anonymous?'

'Yes, it means – '

'Fuck you, Nines, you know that's not what I meant.'

Nines smirks at him, and Hank actually _laughs_. Bet he gets that sort of bullshit from Connor all the time, but still, Gavin's feeling horribly outnumbered (but hey, it's a little like breaking the ice – at least no one's brought up _last night_ , and Gavin's really not thinking about it as much as he could have been – that's good, right? And he feels _good_ , he's never felt this good, even though he wishes he was anywhere else than at a fucking crime scene, this late at fucking night). And at least Connor's keeping his mouth shut, only looking mildly amused (though that's bad enough). Gavin _glares_ , lets his gaze sweep across the room. They all kind of deserve it, the way he looks at it. Yeah, even Nines.

Hank shrugs, with a few extra snickers thrown in just to annoy the fuck out of Gavin (and it works). 'Probably just some kids out making graffiti, that happens a lot in this part of the city. If you've finished with your analysis, maybe we can get the fuck out of here and maybe even get some sleep?'

Gavin sighs, and pushes away from the wall, jamming his hands back down into his pockets. 'You two didn't even need us here, you could have done this on your own.'

Nines sighs at him, shaking his head. Then, in that tone he uses – the one that's firm, but patient – when he's talking to Gavin like he would have a child (like he had that morning), Nines says: 'I told you, Detective, it was not necessary for you to visit the crime scene. You could have stayed home.'

And sure, just to be annoying. 'Fuck that shit, this is my job too.'

'Yes, of course.'

'Yeah, and let's get these fucking bodies out of here. Put them somewhere decent.' He heads out the way they'd come in, stepping close to the android's – Craig, that is – body. He spares a glance down at him, glad one of the others had closed his eyes, too. Where Rebecca's face had been clean other than the blood from where the bullet had entered her skull, there was a mess of red blood all around Craig's mouth, and Gavin couldn't bring himself to look away.

The splatters of red that had dripped down onto his bare chest. The gaping hole where his thirium pump had been, streaks of his girlfriend's blood.

A touch at his shoulder brings him out of that, and Nines's face looms into view. Gavin blinks, and rubs a hand across his eyes, changes his mind, and scrubs across them with his palm.

'Let's get going.' He'd been going already. Nines nods, and Gavin takes a few steps away from him before Nines falls into step behind him. Nines's footsteps are fucking silent compared to his own, for such a big android, so tall and fucking strong, he has an incredibly light touch.

There's some other officers on site, since while the place is cordoned off, it's not going to keep anyone out. At least they don't have to worry about working security for the rest of the night, and keeping the public from sticking their noses in where they really don't belong. Once the bodies have been moved to the morgue, someone else will worry about contacting any next of kin. Maybe Craig's old owners were still friendly with him, maybe – because he'd taken their last name – he was like some sort of son. Maybe it would break them, knowing he had been killed.

He takes a deep breath, slowly blows it out. He needs to calm the fuck down. Gavin focuses on putting one foot in front of the other, heading towards the curb.

He wants to be gone already, wants to be home. For all he'd griped at Nines, that this was his job, too, maybe he shouldn't have come out here at all.

'I've informed the building owner about the active crime scene, and that the building is to remain closed for the time being.' Nines looks pretty pleased with himself, honestly, after all's been said and done. Gavin takes a few more steps, turning back when he notices Nines has stopped following him.

'Problem?'

His LED flashes yellow, then back to blue. 'No, it was just a message from Connor. He wanted to tell us both to have a good night.'

'Uh, yeah. Same, you know. Back at him and Hank.'

Nines doesn't say anything, but his light goes yellow, then blue, and he smiles. 'See, a little politeness goes a very long way.'

'Ah, fuck you' Gavin says, rolling his eyes. 'Let's go home, I just wanna… go to sleep, I don't fucking know.'

'Oh – does this mean you no longer want to play?' Nines, honest to fucking god, sounds put out, and for all Gavin doesn't mind that people know he's in a relationship with an android, that doesn't mean he wants for Nines's voice to have carried.

'Actually,' and he can't help it, he's blushing all over. 'We could dance some more, if you wanted to?' See, he's capable of thinking with his brain and not his dick.

'Oh, yes, I'd like that.' Nines beams at him. 'I'd hoped you'd mention it, actually.'

'Yeah, well, good.' Gavin smiles, a little relieved. Still blushing, but oh well. 'I'd like it, too.'

But he catches up with Gavin anyhow, not stopping until they get to the street. The cab is already on its way, Gavin's sure of that. Maybe he could have asked if Hank would have minded dropping them off, but – no. Yeah, no thanks. He's not ready for that. Times like this, Gavin wonders if he needs to finally be an actual adult and buy himself a car. Or maybe it's time to look at another motorcycle… okay, no, he's not ready for that yet.

He bumps his shoulder against Nines's arm, leans against him. Nines slides that same arm around him, and holds Gavin against him, resting his chin against the top of Gavin's head. How's that for reminding him that he's really fucking short. 'You okay? I know you hate dealing with this bullshit, but you seemed pretty cool and collected.'

'I was merely performing my job to the best of my abilities.'

'Like fucking always,' Gavin mutters. He can't actually see it, but he _can_ , if that makes any sense. The way Nines would smile, at receiving some of Gavin's praise.

'But I am alright, Gavin. I promise you.'

'Hrm. Good.' It's an itch now, right under his skin, he wants to say it again – he's said it once, twice, he never wants to _stop_. But he always doesn't want to come on too hard, and who is he fucking kidding? _Ten months_.

'I love you,' Nines tells him, like he'll never stop telling him.

Nines gives a little hum of approval, and tightens his hold around Gavin's waist. Gavin smiles, his cheeks are aching, his eyes kind of sting. He leans into Nines's hold, he never wants to leave. 'I love you, too.'

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a link to [Playing Nice](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15661389), in case you're interested in that sort of thing.


End file.
